In Search of Something

By Verena Meury

In Search of Something is an amazing collection of travel stories about a woman travelling around the world. A (true) story of God's faithfulness and protection and guidance over many years.
This book is for everyone who seeks inspiration for divine guidance. The author was encouraged and guided by the Holy Spirit to tell her story. She wrote her story, so that her reader may find the same divine guidance and inspiration to be at peace with themselves.
Matthew 7:7 – Ask, and it shall be given unto you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.
A short read that you can be picked up and read whenever you have a spare minute.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Verena Meury
• Release date: Apr 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781928276715

Verena Meury

After years of traveling and being away from home, Verena Meury retired to her hometown Basel, in Switzerland. She and her sister Rosli spend their summers swimming and sunbathing and their winters, taking long walks through the forest or town. Since retiring, Verena’s travel bug reared its head again and she went on pilgrimages with her church and before long, found herself back in her beloved South Africa and visiting a dear friend in Australia... A place she never thought she’d visit again. But her pilgrimages grew her awareness of her healing journey through sharing her life’s story. And through this journey was born her debut book ‘In Search of Something’.

Book preview

WHEN A DREAM BECOMES REALITY

IT ALL BEGAN in the year 1973, just a few weeks before Christmas, when I left my home town to escape the cold, foggy winter temperatures of Europe. The clouds hung low over Basel (Switzerland) and it seemed like snow was about to fall any minute. Christmas was near and people were busy shopping for suitable gifts for their loved ones. But my mind was occupied with something completely different. Like what was waiting for me in that country so far away called South Africa, a country I knew so little about?

My flight, organised by the South African Embassy, went via Windhoek with a short stop at the small Namibian airport. The plane refuelled, the crew changed shifts, and off we went again towards Jan Smuts Airport, Johannesburg. Today it’s called O.R. Tambo International Airport. Oliver Reginald Tambo was an African National Congress (ANC) president. He died in April 1993 and on the 27 th of October 2006, the name of the airport was changed in his honour.

I was lucky enough to have a window seat, so I was able to observe the land below me as we started our descent. The sky was crystal blue and I was sure it was going to be a very hot day. It was still early in the morning and in front of my eyes the golden savannah of Namibia spread out in all directions. There was very little green to be seen, but brown in all shades. At first I could not see any wildlife. My eyes had to get used to the new sight. But after looking for a while, I discovered a herd of zebras leaving a huge cloud of dust behind. The soil was dry and cracked, the sun merciless. For a moment I found myself pondering over this sight. I would have liked to disembark the plane then and there because this was the Africa I had always dreamt of.

I had to ask myself the question – was I stupid, crazy or just naive to immigrate to a country where apartheid was full in bloom?

A country where hate and brutality happened on a daily basis.

WHAT A LIFE

I AM GOING to take you to a few well-known suburbs in Johannesburg, like Berea, Yeoville and Hillbrow where during the apartheid years, immigrants from all over Africa and the world gathered. Hillbrow was known as multicultural, and here you would find every nationality you could think of. Wild and colourful was the New Year celebration which lasted till the early hours of the morning. The main street of Hillbrow was crowded with people. Alcohol and drugs were consumed in large amounts and when things got out of hand, the police were ever so ready to intervene.

During the course of the night many people would be injured and just as many got to see the inside of a police van. The arm of the law didn’t hesitate, and was rather ruthless, in my eyes. I faced this experience after I had been in South Africa for less than two months.

There were lots of homeless children, sleeping in someone’s doorway, sniffing poisonous glue from a plastic bottle until they passed out. Their faces and lips were swollen, they just looked dreadful. There were shelters, but I imagine they did not like being controlled, preferring a life on the street and begging instead. Every night you could hear shooting and police sirens. You would never find just one car arriving, there were always three or four of them. It all happened so fast, then off they would go to the next place of crime.

In the main street, Kotze Street, was Café Zürich, Café Wien and a few others, all selling the most delicious cakes. The Fontana supermarket at High Point was open 24/7 and there we could buy Gerber Fondue. Then we had a Swiss butcher and a Swiss bakery selling the best bread rolls in the whole of Africa. You could get kosher ice-cream at the Café Tel-Aviv and Indians sold tasty spicy food on street corners.

I met Patrick at work and we became good friends. He was a man who was full of secrets and I just didn’t know what to think of him. His behaviour was often like that of a chameleon, he had the ability to adapt himself to every situation. Also, the way we met was very special. In 1968 he was in Melbourne, Australia, but we never met. Back in Johannesburg, we ended up working for the same engineering company.

MY FIRST ADVENTURE

MY FIRST AFRICAN adventure began at the Chobe National Park in Botswana. To the west is the Okavango Delta. Zambia is located to the north and to the east was Rhodesia or, as we know it today, Zimbabwe. Just after we crossed the border from South Africa into Botswana, the road changed from a solid surface to a red sand road. Patrick lost control of the vehicle and we spun across the road over the edge, where we got stuck in deep red sand. We were very fortunate though. This could have easily been the end of our holiday. Apart from shaking knees and being covered in sand, all was well and we continued on our journey.

Still being in ‘civilisation’, we spent our first night in a B&B (bed and breakfast) in a small town called Plumtree. Our Jeep needed some attention after our earlier mishap. Luckily Patrick could take care of it, and so we hit the road early the following morning.

On day two we drove through the gates of